Forget
by PepsiAngel
Summary: In the midst of the war, Ginny wants to make Harry forget about the devastation going on outside the walls of Hogwarts.


Forget

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By _PepsiAngel  
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Disclaimer: Every little bit of it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Seek her out and worship her for she is a genius.

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Author's Note: It is basically a bunch of pointless rambling, but please bear with me and don't flame too hard. Also, I must thank She's A Star for being the Simon Cowell to my innocent showbiz hopeful. 

Ginny Weasley watched him out of the corner of her eye tonight. She had watched him so closely, for so long, that she had begun to know him better than she knew herself. She had even started to recognize what certain gestures meant. He tapped his foot intently when he was thinking and squinted slightly through his spectacles when he worked, hunched over, on his homework at night.

She always knew when he had waited until the last minute to do his Potions essay or when he was simply scribbling down false, and wildly unbelievable, predictions and dreams for Divinations.  


She never let on to anyone that she still watched him. It wasn't something that one flashed around to all her friends. After all, she'd had many boyfriends since the end of her third year and everyone was content to believe her when she proclaimed that she was over Harry. 

At first, even she believed her lie. Ginny had always been a good actress.  


But even the best actress cannot fool her heart. It still skipped a beat every time she talked to Harry. She no longer blushed around him; she was poised and cool on the outside.

Internally, she was much more composed as well. But she still had those moments, like right now; when she felt her cheeks burn gently with a scarlet blush.

Sometimes he caught her in the act of staring intently, memorizing his every move. She would play it off, usually scanning the Common Room and letting her eyes settle on other Gryffindors as well. From time to time she would smile at him, confident yet slightly reserved. 

Until one day, when it was nearing the end of the school year she didn't look away or grin slyly at him. There was death, destruction, and murder going on outside the walls of Hogwarts but all she could think about was him. How he looked when the light hit his hair, how he never seemed to smile anymore . . .

She wanted to make him smile.

He was finally alone now, sitting by the empty fireplace in an armchair. His stare was fixated on the book once more, he'd only glanced her way for a mere second but something in his eyes had made her come over. He looked so sad.

She couldn't stand to see him sad.

From the way he was looking just past the edge of the pages, she knew he wasn't reading. A chunk of black hair had fallen on top of his eyeglass, but he took no notice. He did not seem to notice much of anything lately, save for her. She briefly wondered if she could distract him from the horrors of the war, the way the thought of him did for her.

She wanted to distract him, to make him forget.

"Hi, Harry," she said softly as she approached him. He looked up at her and she wanted to hold him and kiss away all the worries and fears that seemed etched in his face. She loved him too much for him to hurt.

"Hi," he echoed and still he seemed unfocused, detached.  
  
"Well, don't look so happy to see me," she said with a weak smile. "It's almost embarrassing."

He forced a feeble laugh that was quite unconvincing.

Humor, she decided, was obviously not the way to go.

With this in mind, she squeezed onto the chair, next him, and she was so close that if she moved her arm they would touch. So she slid her hand over slowly and brushed his arm in the gentlest manner. His eyes widened for a split second and he almost looked surprised, but the emotion left immediately as if he were determined to be stone faced.

"You can feel, you know," she whispered. "You don't have to be brave. "

A vague part of her registered that he must have heard it all before but she _needed_ to make him understand. She was helpless in the whole of it. In the big picture she couldn't do anything to assist the wizarding world but she felt like she had to help Harry.  


"I used to think I couldn't break down and cry if I wanted, but now I realize I can. I know you want to be brave, so do I," her voice was steady and strong now, instead of a hoarse whisper. "But don't think it is required of you. Look around, Harry. Everybody is frightened . . . I'm frightened. You're not so alone."

"I know," he muttered. He gazed at her now, rather intensely, but she didn't waver under it. Instead, she gazed back at him. The emerald green seemed to sparkle and dance with moisture and she wondered if maybe he was allowing himself to cry.  


She blinked and his eyes were filled with worry, doubt, hope . . . but no tears.

He just kept looking at her and after a few minutes she began to feel unnerved. There didn't appear to be an end in sight to this continuous gaping but it made her feel as if she were a caged pet or someone who looked familiar but he could not quite put his finger on why.  


Finally, she leaned over and kissed him, slowly and tenderly. It seemed to go on forever yet only lasted a few seconds. When she pulled away he sat there, eyes still closed as if savoring the moment, for a minute.

"Ginny," he told her, opening his eyes at last. "I think I'm in love with you."

She smiled sadly and replied, "No, I don't think you are."

She knew before he even spoke that she was right. "I could learn to," he said simply, confirming her beliefs.

"It isn't that easy," she took his hand in between her small, white ones. 

He, however, seemed undaunted and pressed on. "Isn't it?" 

"Maybe some day you will love me, but you don't right now. I can still be here for you, though, as a friend. I'll still care about you and be there whenever you need me."

He merely shrugged, and opened his mouth before closing it again, as if he wanted to speak but was at a loss for words. She nodded, to show him she understood, and then squeezed his hand before letting go and standing up.

"Good bye, Harry," she said softly before gliding away. If he had looked close enough at her retreating form, he would have seen her shoulders were shaking ever so slightly and her hands quivered even more inconspicuously.

As, she sat in her armchair and still later that night when she slipped up the stairs and into her dormitory room his words echoed in her mind. '_Ginny, I think I'm in love with you._' She had ached to hear him say that for so long but for just as long she had wanted him to mean it when he said it.

He had not meant it today.

He was just confused; he was desperate for someone to comfort and console him. Oh, how she yearned to throw her arms around his neck and confess she loved him too.

Perhaps one day she would be able to live out her fantasy, but for now she had to just be satisfied with knowing that he wanted to love her and, for a few seconds earlier that day, she had helped him forget there was devastation and demise in the world.

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End file.
